


To Ourselves...New Paganism...Omphalos

by Artpressing



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Nymphs & Dryads, Short & Sweet, Warlocks, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artpressing/pseuds/Artpressing
Summary: Brendon opens a magic shop and meets Ryan.





	To Ourselves...New Paganism...Omphalos

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Joyce's Ulysses, Episode I.

Brendon finally bought the building for himself, and started setting up his shop.  
He was a warlock, and mastering the arcane arts and making pacts with pagan gods usually aren’t enough to make a living, and since Brendon collected things that can be easily mistaken for odd trinkets and fake ‘haunted’ items, he came up with the idea of the shop.

After he opened, everything went fine for weeks, he was just arranging potions in the back and dusting off old magical objects, and putting the harmless ones in the the shop window, when a man about his age showed up, and he looked like someone who didn’t simply believed that magic exists, no, he actually looked like he knows things that most people don’t.  
Brendon thought he was beautiful; he had a round face framed with curly brown hair and eyes that shone like honey in morning sunlight. He also had a stubble and a leather jacket, like he was trying to mask the allure that isn’t given to most men. A sly smirk graced his small, pink lips, and then he talked, and his voice matched his harshness and not the soft face. 

Brendon had no idea what the fuck he said, because he was too busy staring.  
Then the man just laughed, it was barely more than a few short breaths; And introduced himself as Ryan Ross.

He gracefully stepped toward the old piano in the end of the room and frowned.  
“What does this have to with the things you sell?”  
Brendon smiled at him fondly, not wanting to say too much.  
“Music is magic by itself. It doesn’t need anything.”  
Ryan pressed down some of the keys, pleased with the sound they made. He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed and Brendon sighed in defeat. “It tunes itself.”  
Ryan immediately looked more interested than Brendon thought he was capable of. It was adorable in way.  
“Have you got a guitar that does that?” His voice was flat, but his eyes were shining and anyone could tell that he was passionate about music.  
Brendon's grin turned wider and shook his head. He kinda felt like an idiot, he was acting like he was happy about not being able to sell something.  
When Ryan's face fell, he blurted out “No, but I can make you one.”  
And that's. That's how normal people usually found out about warlocks, witches and magic. Seriously, more than half of witch trials started with a line like that.  
(Brendon felt weirded out by the fact that he actually memorized the statistics, but whatever.)

 

Ryan became a regular after their first meeting, but he never bought anything, and basically just came in to flirt, or more like to let Brendon flirt with him. (He always said that he was checking if Brendon was done with the guitar, but they both knew it wasn't about that.)  
Brendon had enough after a couple weeks and eventually invited Ryan in, showed him the part of the house where he lived and offered that they should watch a movie on his small couch.  
(Hey, no one can blame him for that, cuddling is probably his favorite thing in the world. After dragons, obviously. Nothing is cooler than dragons.)  
Ryan wasn't fond on the idea, and suggested that they should sit in the garden instead and eat the cookies he was keeping in his bag the whole day because he was saving them for Brendon.  
They opened a glass of white wine after a while and started talking, first about music, then about themselves. 

It became a habit, and Ryan always stayed after Brendon closed for the day, even after he got the guitar. 

They even started playing music together, sometimes they sat together at the piano, when no customers came in and Brendon got bored, but usually they just played guitar under the oak tree in the garden.  
When they sang, they sounded better together; It was almost like they were two halves made for each other.

And Brendon was so smitten, that he didn't see the signs.  
When Ryan watered every single plant in his home every time he came over, and when the dead orchids in his bedroom came back to life after he left Ryan alone for ten minutes.  
Or if he did notice something it was forgotten as soon as Ryan pressed a kiss on his cheek.

Brendon obviously knew that something was up, but didn't pay attention to it.

 

He thought that he was maybe in love until the tree incident.

You see, Brendon had an important question that needed to be answered and because of that one hot May afternoon he whispered something about cutting down the oak tree in the back of the garden. It gave off weird Fey vibes, and had a weird flower scent, even in December, the first time he got suspicious.  
He didn’t mind that Ryan didn’t answer, it happened quite a lot, but what he did notice was that this there was rage behind the silence, and Ryan glared at him.  
Brendon haven’t even seen it anything, until Ryan slammed him against the wall, and snarled something about the tree. Brendon suddenly started laughing, and Ryan just raised an eyebrow, both offended and surprised, and he held him harder and his voice became more threatening.  
He was unaware of what was going on around them until a garden chair hit him in the face and he fell to the ground. He looked around, confused, because there was no one who could’ve thrown it, but when he glanced up and noticed the quickly fading, glowing sigils on Brendon’s face, neck and arms, he understood.  
“Warlock.” He snorted, not really expecting an answer.  
“Dryad.” Brendon said with an eyeroll, then he kneeled in front of Ryan and pressed their lips together.  
“If you try to hurt my tree, I swear I-”  
The side of his head started bleeding, but he just kept talking, until he noticed the ridiculous expression on Brendon's face. He looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter, the asshole.  
Ryan knew better than to punch a warlock, but in that moment he really wanted to.  
“I'm not doing anything to your tree, dude, you could've just. Told me?”  
Ryan sighs and nods, looking at their entangled fingers. This time he is the one who leans in for a kiss.  
When they pulled apart Brendon giggled and said: “No wonder you look like a pile of twigs.”  
Before Ryan could answer, Brendon pulled him closer and helped him up, slowly.  
“No more secrets?” He asked. The answer came before he had a chance to say anything else.  
“No more secrets.” Ryan looked like he was about to walk away without saying something else, but then he sighed.  
“This shirt looks awful on you, seriously.”  
Brendon grinned and leaned closer to whisper into the dryad’s ear.  
“I'm sure you wouldn't mind taking it off”  
And Ryan's casual expression was destroyed then and there and he turned bright red.  
It was true that he would be okay with taking more than a shirt off of Brendon, but he was dizzy, his head hurt, and the whole situation was simply fucking absurd.  
Brendon grabbed his hand and led him inside, thankfully not towards his bed. He told Ryan to stay on the couch and get comfortable, and Ryan secretly hoped that he was not going to return in skimpy lingerie or something like that. Brendon stopped in the doorway, and turned back to look at him with a sly smile.  
“Let's see what I can do about your head.”  
Ryan wondered if Brendon could read his mind, or it was the connection they had, but he realized he didn't want to know.  
Brendon came back carrying a tray of potions and a big book with a thick leather cover that suspiciously looked like a grimoire. 

Then Brendon started cleaning the wound on his head with something that looked like some kind of tea made out of boring green leaves. He wasn’t sure if that thing was supposed to be on his head, but whatever.  
He couldn’t do anything just stare at Brendon, the rest didn’t actually matter.  
His tongue was sticking out, and he was concentrating maybe way too hard, but somehow he still looked gorgeous.  
“You can’t be allergic to field horsetail, right? Or marigold? I hope I’m not completely stupid and-”  
“Organic things can’t have a negative effect on me, Bren. Especially not herbs.”  
Brendon hummed knowingly and pressed another cotton pad on Ryan’s head.  
Twenty minutes, three spells and a makeout session later they were tangled into each other on the couch, Brendon already asleep.  
Ryan watched him while tracing lines on his skin, mostly floral patterns, lilies, carnations, and bloodroot. He imagined the vines wrapping around Brendon’s figure, swallowing him whole, pulling him down, stealing him from Ryan.  
Brendon looked mortal in his sleep, and Ryan couldn’t forget the fact that Brendon is not the part of nature like he is. He is like a beautiful flower that only blooms once, and just fades away, turns into dust.

Ryan quickly closed his eyes and pretended that he was sleeping when he felt Brendon wiggle in his arms.  
“Don’t worry about it Oak-boy, we will manage. And please stop thinking too much and sleep because it’s getting fucking annoying.” 

Fucking shit, so Brendon does hear his thoughts.

“This is probably the most hilarious reaction I’ve ever gotten.”  
Brendon started shaking with laughter and pulled Ryan closer to his chest. Ryan glared at him, and Brendon started laughing even louder.  
Later, they fell asleep together, huddled on the couch, and they didn't even notice the Alstroemerias blooming in the windowsill. 

Brendon though that he was maybe in love until the tree incident.  
After that, he knew it for sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in one of my old folders, thought I might as well post it.  
> Originally titled 'Pagan Trinity', it was meant to be something different. I hope it's still enjoyable.
> 
> Also I'm still writing...?


End file.
